Frank reached into his attaché, pulled out a rolled-up sock, and shoved into Gordie’s mouth. Holding it in place, he turned to Reggie. “Get me some tape.”
Frank looked down at Gordie. “This isn’t horseshoes, Shylock. Close doesn’t count.”
As Gordie squirmed and tried to move his head from under Frank’s hold, Reggie pulled a roll of duct tape out of Frank’s bag. He tore off a long strip and handed it to Frank, who taped it over the sock in Gordie’s mouth and wrapped it around his head.
Frank nodded. “That’s better.”
He straightened and looked over at Reggie, who was closely inspecting Sirena. “Let’s get this show rolling.”
Reggie turned, shaking his head in admiration. “Great stuff, Frank. Great stuff.” He held the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Okay, gentlemen. I believe we are ready for liftoff.”
There was a crackling noise and then a voice: “Roger. We’re heading in.”
Frank walked to the door and poked his head outside. “Everything’s set,” he called into the darkness.
He turned back to Reggie and nodded. “Showtime.”
And then he stepped out.
A moment later two workmen came into the room. One was rolling a two-wheeled dolly, and the other was carrying several coils of heavy-duty rope. They glanced at Gordie as the moved past the bed toward Sirena.
Reggie paused at the door and turned toward Gordie. “I guess I win the prize this time, eh? Nevertheless, awfully sorry about this part, chum.”
Chapter Thirty-two
Ray leaned forward. “What the hell is that?”
“Sounds like a helicopter,” Billy said.
Lou pointed. “Over there.”
A helicopter passed over the highway heading toward the motel.
“What’s going on?” Lou asked.
Now the copter was hovering above the motel parking lot.
Ray scrambled to his feet. “I don’t like this.”
A powerful spotlight beneath the helicopter flashed on. The shaft of light illuminated a figure in the parking lot motioning up at the helicopter.
“Shit!” Ray turned toward the stairs. “Shit!”
***
Reggie was in the driver’s seat, hands on the steering wheel, engine idling. Sheila was in the backseat, twenty crisp one-hundred-dollar bills folded in the wallet in her purse. A good night’s pay.
Both were watching Frank, who stood on the motel parking lot supervising final preparations. The helicopter hovered thirty feet above Frank, creating a gale-force downdraft that scattered gravel and litter across the parking lot like tumbleweed in an old Western.
WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA.
The noise was deafening.
The two workers had rolled Sirena out to the middle of the parking lot. They were finishing the job of trussing her with the ropes. She looked every bit the kidnap victim—bound by ropes, illuminated by the bright shaft of light.
Above her, a large metal hook slowly descended, unreeling from a spool of steel cable attached to the bottom of the helicopter. The hook wobbled and swung back and forth as it lowered.
WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA-WUPA.
One of the workers reached up and grabbed the hook. He guided it down and slipped it through a loop in the ropes around the statue. He checked the grip, turned toward Frank, and gave him the okay sign.
Frank stepped back until the pilot above could see him. He gave him a thumbs-up. The workers steadied the statue as the cable tightened.
There was a creaking noise above the pounding throbs of the blades. The helicopter engine revved higher, and Sirena rose off the ground, rocking in the air a few inches above the asphalt.
Frank jogged toward the car, opened the passenger door, and hopped in.
“Hit it,” he said as he slammed the door closed.
***
They were sprinting toward the parking lot, Lou in the lead. He could tell they weren’t going to make it. They’d been at least a football field’s length away when Frank gave the pilot the thumbs-up sign. They were maybe twenty yards back when the statue lifted from the ground and the car pulled out of the parking lot with a squeal of the tires.
Lou slowed to a jog as he watched Sirena glide across the asphalt parking lot at a diagonal away from them, gliding along a few feet off the ground, a fleeing ghost, shimmering in the shaft of light from above.
“Damn,” he said, slowing to a walk. Hands on his hips, gasping for breath.
Ray charged past him.
“No!” Ray shouted, running after Sirena. “No!”
It took Lou a moment to grasp Ray’s intent.
“Ray!” He started after him. “Don’t!”
“You fucks!” Ray screamed toward the helicopter, his arms and legs pumping furiously.
As he closed in on the statue, the spotlight clicked off and the helicopter seemed to shift into a higher gear. Lou was ten yards behind him and gaining when Ray dove for Sirena.
As Lou watched in disbelief, Ray got his arms around the base of the statue as it started to rise. He was grasping at the ropes, trying to pull the statue down, his legs churning crazily, as if someone had hit the fast-forward button. And then he was off the ground, his legs bicycling in the air.
“Let go, Ray!” Lou shouted. “Let go!”
The helicopter climbed higher, Sirena and Ray dangling from the end of the cable. The added weight had momentarily slowed the statue’s forward momentum. But now the two of them were swinging forward in an arc at the end of the long cable as they headed toward a grove of trees.
Ray was ten feet off the ground.
Now fifteen.
Now twenty.
He was kicking his legs, struggling for a firmer grip on the ropes, trying to hook his right leg up on the base of the statue. The two of them now swaying side to side at the end of the cable.
Billy came trotting up from behind, out of breath. “Where is he?”
Lou pointed.
“Oh, my God.”
They stood at the edge of the parking lot, watching, helpless.
The trees were coming on fast.
Too fast.
Ray was thirty feet off the ground, now forty. He was clinging to the base of the statute, his feet thrashing in the air, when they smashed into the treetops.
The cable snagged for a moment, as if the trees were trying to hold on to their prize, which had disappeared into the leaves. The helicopter engines whined louder, and then Sirena leapt clear of the trees, swinging forward in a wide arc on the end of the cable, soaring upward into the night sky.
Alone.
Lou was running toward the trees.
“Ray!” he shouted. “Ray!”
Chapter Thirty-three
At 11:14 a.m. the next day, Ray opened his eyes.
“Morning, Spiderman,” Lou said.
Ray tried to speak but all that came out was a raspy sound.
“Don’t talk.” Lou touched his own throat. “Doctor’s orders. You’re pretty banged up.”
Ray winced as he tried to turn his head. He gave Lou a questioning look.
“You had two chopper rides last night.” Lou gave him a sympathetic smile. “We’re in a hospital about sixty miles outside of Pittsburgh. The paramedics flew you down here after they carried you out of the woods.” He lifted the large cup of water off the tray and bent the straw toward Ray. “Want some?”
Ray nodded slightly, careful not to move his head much. Lou positioned the straw and watched as Ray took three sips. Then he put the cup back on the tray.
He said, “You reminded me a little of Major King Kong last night.”
Ray frowned and mouthed the word Who?
Lou said, “Gordie’s favorite character from his favorite movie of all-time, Dr. Strangelove. Kong
is the commander of the lead bomber heading into Russia. Played by Slim Pickens.”
Ray tried to nod, though the motion made him wince.
“Remember at the end? He grabs his ten-gallon hat, straddles the bomb and rides it down to Earth hollering like a cowboy and waving his hat.”
Ray smiled.
“Unfortunately, your ride got away. You fell almost fifty feet. The paramedics said the only thing that saved you were the tree branches. They gave you a pounding on the way down, but they slowed your descent.” Lou shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me, Ray.”
Ray glanced down. His right leg was in a cast up to his knee and suspended off the bed by a cable. Lou followed his gaze and nodded.
“Compound fractures,” he said. “Tibia and fibula. They put pins in there when they set it. You have a broken left wrist. Just a hairline fracture, but serious enough for a cast. Forty-seven stitches on your right arm. Fifteen in the back of your head. Cuts and bruises all over your body. And two black eyes.”
Ray looked down at the cast on his left arm.
“I called Brandi,” Lou said. “She’ll be here late afternoon. Billy’s driving the van down to Pittsburgh to pick her up at the airport.”
Ray scowled.
“She loves you, Ray. And believe me, buddy—” Lou winked “—I’m not changing your bedpan when you get out of here.”
Ray seemed to ponder the information as his gaze wandered around the room. Then his eyes snapped back to Lou.
Lou shook his head. “She’s gone. Reggie and Frank had the whole thing planned out. Gordie’s hot date was a setup. Probably a hooker. They must have been following us the whole time.” Lou sighed. “Poor Gordie.”
Ray looked puzzled.
“I found him in our motel room afterward. Bound and gagged on the bed. Totally naked. Totally humiliated. He’s sitting out there now. In the waiting room. Refuses to talk to anyone.”
A nurse came bustling into the room. “And how’s our patient doing?”
Lou stood up. “He’s awake.”
She came over to the bed and flashed Ray a matronly smile. “Good morning, Mr. Gorman. Let’s check our temperature and blood pressure. The doctor should be here in a few minutes.”
Ray’s eyes moved toward Lou, who smiled and gave him a wink.
Chapter Thirty-four
Brandi lowered her voice. “The doctor thinks he’ll be able to leave in three days.”
It was close to six p.m. Lou and Brandi stood in the hall outside Ray’s hospital room. Billy was at the pay phone down the hall talking to his wife. Gordie was alone in the lounge, staring at the television, which was tuned to a Pirates-Mets baseball game. The color was out of whack, the outfield grass orange.
“Three days,” Lou repeated, doing the mental addition. “June fifteenth.”
Brandi pulled a small calendar out of her purse and paged through it. “The reunion starts the sixteenth. You know he’s gonna want to be there. The Sirena part is going to drive him crazy, but that’s okay. He needs to be there.” She smiled. “I’ll get him good and drunk that morning and strap him into a wheelchair.”
Lou nodded. “Good idea.”
“I’ll book us flights out of Pittsburgh.” She jotted a note in the calendar and looked up at Lou. “You’re still going, right?”
“Definitely. My kids are flying in on the fifteenth. Late afternoon. I’ve got the exact time in the van. If you can book a flight that arrives around then, I can pick you up when I get my kids.”
“That’d be great.” She glanced beyond him down the hall toward the pay phones and the lounge. “What are you guys going to do for the next three days?”
Lou turned. Billy was off the phone and walking back to the lounge.
Lou turned back to Brandi and shrugged. “Guess I’m about to find out.”
***
Billy shook his head. “I don’t know, Lou. It seems impossible.”
“It seemed impossible the first time, too. But we found her, right?”
“Yeah, but now they know who we are.”
“And we know who they are, Billy. This time we know exactly who took her. Even better, we know exactly where they’re headed, and exactly where they’ll be on June seventeenth. If we did it once, we can do it again.”
“Twice?” Billy said. “In less than a week?” He glanced over at Gordie, who was staring at the television and pretending to be oblivious to the conversation.
Billy looked back at Lou. “That’s a lot to ask.”
I know it’s a lot to ask, Lou thought, frustrated. Probably too much to ask—especially in our current situation: dazed and confused marooned somewhere on the edge of western Pennsylvania.
Lou sighed. “We found her, Billy. We were the ones.”
“Once. But not anymore.”
“And what? Just walk away. Just slink off to the reunion.”
“I know it’s a lousy option, Lou, but it’s the only realistic one.”
Lou turned toward the window overlooking the parking lot, trying to organize his thoughts.
It wasn’t just the unfairness of what Reggie and Frank had done to them, although he certainly wanted his vengeance there—total vengeance, which included embarrassing them in the process.
And it was more than just a desire to reclaim Sirena and whatever glory and money were associated with that. Those were reasons, sure, but he knew they weren’t the real reason. At least for him. At the core of this crazy quest was Ray. This was about Ray. Especially now. Especially with that final image of him in Lou’s mind—clinging to Sirena, legs thrashing in the air as the helicopter lifted them ever higher into the night sky, framing him for one moment against the stars, Ray’s predicament was at once hopeless and insane.
And marvelous.
Ray’s actions had been crazy, but gloriously crazy. A moment of mad inspiration so amazing that you just couldn’t let it fade away in rural Pennsylvania. Ray’s madness deserved something more—even if that something more ended in more failure.
Lou stared out the window, searching for the right words. He turned to face Billy.
“Remember last night on the rooftop patio?”
Billy nodded.
“Remember what you said?”
Billy frowned. “I’m not sure.”
“You were the one, Billy. You were the one who was so impressed by that bartender. You were the one who said you admired a person who would spend ten years trying to reach his goal even if he never reached it. Ten years, Billy. Think about that. All we have to do here is spend four more days. She’s ours, Billy. We found her. We can’t just walk away.”
“But where would we even start?”
“I have no idea.” Lou came over and sat down across from him. “We’ll think of something. Even if we go down in smoke, Billy, let’s do it trying to get her back. We owe Ray at least that much.”
Billy frowned. “Boy, I don’t know, Lou.”
Lou took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, feeling the burden of Ray’s absence—and the frustration.
He stood up. “What do you want from me, Billy? A win-one-for-the-Gipper speech?”
Billy shrugged. “Jeez, Lou, it’s just…”
Billy’s voice faded and he turned to Gordie, who was glowering at the television, his arms crossed over his chest. “What do you think, Gordie?”
Gordie turned toward them, his eyes fierce. “I want to totally crush those preppie motherfuckers. Nuclear humiliation. Period. I don’t care about anything else.”
He turned back to the television.
“The best way to crush them,” Lou said, “is to take back the statue.”
Gordie scowled at the screen.
“This whole thing was Ray’s idea.” Billy shook his head. “But now Ray’s out.”
“Exactly.” Lou stood
. “That’s the point, Billy. Ray’s out. We’re not.”
Lou stared down at them. Neither said a thing. He checked his watch.
“Here’s the deal, guys. It’s quarter to seven, and I’m bushed. I’m going to bed. I’m getting up tomorrow early and driving to Massachusetts. And when I get there, I’m going to try to find her. You want to come along, be in the motel lobby tomorrow morning at six. If not—” he paused, looking first at Billy, who was studying the carpet, and then at Gordie, who was frowning at the television “—if not, well, I’ll look for you guys at the reunion.”
And then he left.
Chapter Thirty-five
Ray opened his eyes at six twenty the next morning.
Lou leaned in close and put his finger to his lips. He gestured toward the other hospital bed, where Brandi was asleep on her side facing them, her hands tucked under the pillow.
“I came to say good-bye,” Lou whispered.
Ray nodded, expressionless.
“It’s not over—yet. You’ll be out of here in two days. Brandi gave me the flight info. I’ll meet you two at the airport.”
“Good morning, Louis.”
Lou looked up. Brandi was smiling at him.
Lou winked at her. “Just checking in with Major Kong.” He looked down at Ray. “Barrett’s an eleven-hour drive from here. That’ll leave us plenty of time. Frank and Reggie are going to have to stash her somewhere near the college. I’ll find her.”
Ray grimaced and shook his head.
“I know, I know.” Lou smiled. “They have helicopters and they have armed guards and they have lots of money. But guess what I have?”
He gestured behind him with his thumb. In the doorway stood Gordie and Billy.
Gordie stepped into the room. “Did you just call him Major Kong?”
Lou nodded. “I told him the sight of him riding Sirena into those trees reminded me of Slim Pickens on the bomb.”
“Major T.J. ‘King’ Kong.” Gordie was grinning as he stepped into the room. “A great American. Remember the pep talk he gave his bomber crew?”
“No,” Lou said, “but I bet someone here does.”
The Sirena Quest Page 17